Building a Home in Prehistoric Times

I’m Wang Tiezhu, a top survival-in-the-wild instructor, and I actually slipped while demonstrating free solo climbing for a bunch of rich kids. I woke up face-to-face with a saber-toothed tiger’s drool, so I whipped out my thermos. The sunlight flashed off it and blinded the tiger. The furry cavemen watching dropped to their knees and cried, “Messenger of the Sun God!” I stared at their animal-skin skirts and fell into thought: If I can’t be an instructor, becoming the CEO of a primitive tribe wouldn’t be bad either. I teach them to weave grass sandals, dig traps, and build mud-brick houses. Then the neighboring Giant Rock tribe gets jealous and comes to steal our grain. I order everyone to load skunk glands into slingshots. “Let’s go! Ancient biological warfare!” Through the smoke, I plant my foot on the enemy chief’s back, then suddenly notice the carabiner hanging around his neck. Could there be another transmigrator in this godforsaken place?